


Virtually Real

by Fire_Bear



Series: USUK Dimension Transcension Week 2016 [5]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Chatting & Messaging, Computer Games, Computer Viruses, Day5Canon, Gen, Hetalia Fantasia, M/M, USUK Dimension Transcension Week 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-06-06 15:01:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6758836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Bear/pseuds/Fire_Bear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>England just wants to relax after a hard day's work: watch some TV, rest his weary legs... and maybe play some Fantasia. But when America turns up in-game, things start to get a little less relaxing...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Virtually Real

**Author's Note:**

> FYI, “Corrie” is the nickname given to Coronation Street, a soap opera shown on ITV1/STV/UTV/probably whatever Welsh TV is called.

England closed his front door, leaned against it and sighed in relief. Finally, he had been given a long weekend, no need to work, no need to see the other nations and argue with them. Time to relax, watch some telly and, perhaps...

Dropping his briefcase by the door, he shrugged off his coat, tugged off his suit jacket and pulled at his tie till it was loose. Then, once he had rolled up his sleeves, he marched himself off to his study and switched on his computer. England leaned back and waited for it to load completely before clicking on the Fantasia game symbol that America had, at some point, created a short-cut for on the desktop. After logging in, a smile adorned England's face as he summoned his favourite, cute, pixelated creatures before sending his mage character off into the expansive world.

Well, where he actually went was his 'garden' where he grew 'herbs' for his potions and spells. After harvesting what had 'grown', he 'planted' some new ones then headed off to the town his 'alliance' usually met. He wondered if anyone else was playing today. Most of the time, China would be online but too busy making money to pay attention. He didn't mind one bit, though he was always annoyed if Russia turned up and England was left alone with him. Apart from that, France hardly appeared except for when America specially requested it, America was several hours behind and usually working and England could never bloody find Canada, no matter how long he spent looking.

Today, it was quiet. China's cart was nowhere to be seen, Russia hadn't popped up, France wasn't there and he couldn't see Canada. However... The Alliance Notification window popped up at the side, telling England that America was online and nearby. He blinked and stared at the screen, unsure of what to do. Should he go find him or let him come to England? After all, if he went to America, he would think that England was actively seeking him out to play, just the two of them...

Feeling himself beginning to blush, England smacked his cheek and scolded himself. Enough of that nonsense! There was nothing between him and America... His heart sank and he sighed, feeling a little disheartened. Maybe it would be best if he signed off and took his mind off things with a good old soap. If he hurried, he could still catch Corrie.

xXHeroXx: _Eeeeeenglaaaaanndd!!!!!_

Seeing the message pop up in the customary speech bubble startled England and he jumped. On screen, the little gunman character America played ran into the area England's was in. Without stopping, it barrelled into him and knocked the mage flying. Some numbers and a negative sign appeared in the top right of the screen, indicating that England's character had sustained some damage. Scowling, England clicked on America's character in order to speak to him and quickly typed his own message.

Te4P0t: _I've told you before, idiot – call me Arthur on here! People can see these bubbles!_

Te4P0t: _And stop knocking me over! You know it damages my character!_

xXHeroXx: _Thank God it's not happened to you!_

Te4P0t: _What's not happened to me?_

xXHeroXx: _There's a glitch in the game. You need to log off before you get sucked in!_

Te4P0t: _Sucked in? What on Earth are you talking about, Alfred? Have you been playing this for too long?_

It was at that point, as England waited for the response, that the screen flickered, the entire image turning black for half a second before returning. This happened three times in quick succession before settling just in time for him to see America's message.

xXHeroXx: _No! Just log off!_

Irritated, England tapped the keys loudly as he sent his next message.

Te4P0t: _Why should I? If there's a glitch in the game, you should log off, too._

xXHeroXx: _I can't. That's the point! I'm stuck here._

Te4P0t: _What?_

The image flickered again and, just as England was able to see their conversation again, he realised something. It made him freeze, staring at the tiny characters on the screen. What did it mean? Tentatively, he typed out a new message.

Te4P0t: _Wait. Since when do you spell and use punctuation correctly on this game?_

Just as he sent it, the screen flickered once more before suddenly bending as if something was pushing from the inside. Alarmed, England pushed his chair as far back as he could and stared as the screen began to curve into a protruding sphere. The glass surface was white but speckled black as if it was displaying static. As it pushed outwards, it tapered so that the sphere became a head attached to a neck as whatever the thing was pushed its way into England's study.

Obviously, this was the glitch. Quite how America and Japan had managed to make this, he didn't know but he was sure some magic would stop it. England raised a hand – and stopped. If he stopped the glitch – now forming shoulders – would America be trapped, alone, in that world? Would there be a way to get him back out? Surely there would be. But how long would that take? Would it take years? Centuries? Would America still be the same if he went without company of his own kind? What if they had to shut the game down to get rid of the glitch? Would America die, alone and trapped?

Before England could reach a decision, a pair of arms thrust out of the screen, caught his wrists and dragged him to the monitor. With a cry of protest, England tugged at his arms, trying to get free. He had to call Japan – he would surely know what to do. But the glitch's grip was tight and it pulled England closer. The nation dug his heels in, drew on the residual strength from when he had been an empire and _pulled_.

The glitch still managed to pull him through the computer and into the world beyond.

* * *

England shifted where he lay and instantly knew something was wrong. He had definitely gone home and hadn't intended on any drinking so quite why he was lying on the ground, he wasn't entirely sure. Besides that, he was sure he was wearing robes, a different material from his own set, velvet instead of coarse fibres. Also, there was something nudging his hand and someone shaking him. The someone was saying, over and over, “No, no, no, no-”

“Oh, shut up, America,” England growled, his head throbbing as he knocked America's hand away and sat up, rubbing at his temples with his eyes closed tight. His memory was returning, images of the computer and America's gunman character coming to him. “Urgh,” he said as he slowly came to terms with what had happened.

When he finally opened his eyes, America was looking down at him with concern, his huge, overbearing gun strapped to his back over the long, brown coat he was wearing. He looked far more impressive than the centimetre tall character he moved around in the game. The gun was still ridiculously huge, though.

America held out a hand and England took it, allowing the other nation to pull him to his feet. Once he was standing, he took stock of their surroundings. The sky above was blue and filled with perfect, white clouds – each one looked like a child's drawing. In the west, the sun was setting, perfectly round and a little bright but otherwise a pale facsimile of the sun in their world. Around them, NPCs bustled about, each looking slightly too perfect to be real, though they smiled in passing as a real person would. Other players hurried by, chatting to each other, bubbles appearing above their heads so that England could see some of their conversation. The buildings were all the same colour but marked off at exactly the same length. At his feet stood three cute, odd little creatures, the ones he had summoned earlier. They seemed concerned and he smiled to placate them before looking up at America who was looking decidedly sheepish.

“Heh, sorry,” he said. “I think the Glitch mighta followed me to your computer.”

“Idiot,” snarled England, hitting his companion over the head. He was satisfied to see a red number pop up above America's head, though the fact that it was only **-1** was rather disappointing. “There's nothing to be done now,” he told America. “We need to figure out how to both get home and stop this thing before any humans are dragged in here.”

“Ah. Right,” said America, suddenly looking determined. “I was on my way to message Ja- _Kiku_ when I spotted you were online and thought I should warn you – not that you listened ,” he added, pointedly. He grinned at England, cocky as usual.

Sniffing, England turned his back on him and stalked off, heading towards his favourite apothecary. “I could have handled it myself. I just got distracted with your little messages.”

“ _Sure_ ,” America replied, grin still firmly on his face.

England rolled his eyes. “Well, then. How are we going to message... Kiku?” It was damn odd saying Japan's human name.

“We put in a feature for us to be messaged with any issues,” America explained. “If we go to the next town where he usually signs in, there's a way to send him an e-mail from there.”

“All right,” said England. “Let me just find some things in here.” He gestured at the shop they had stopped in front of. “We may need some for the journey – there are still enemies between us and Kiku, isn't there?”

“Yup. I might buy stuff, too.” America paused. “I'm glad you're the one stuck in here with me.”

For a moment, England's heart stopped. Dare he hope...?

“It's way better than being stuck with Russia.”

With that, America entered the apothecary. England stared after him, fingers twitching. Above his head, a speech bubble popped up.

Te4P0t: _**I'm going to kill him.** _


	2. Low HP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I sorta semi-promised to write a second part for this ages ago. Here it is! Now that I'm not writing other things for other weeks.
> 
> (I tried to put in the numbers but, apparently, AO3 doesn't like colours? Or just doesn't like me. Whatever. Fine. Be that way.)

When they finally left the apothecary, England had decided to let the comment slide – for now. It wouldn't be in his best interests to get into an argument with America at the moment. So they made their way through the small town they had found themselves in and left it behind them. America chattered on about the changes he had made since the last time they had been online while they went. At first, England let him. Then, quite fed up with his constant need for talking, he sighed and interrupted the other nation.

“Yes, those features are all very well and good, Alfred,” he said, “but you also created that Glitch.”

Thankfully, that shut him up: America grimaced and ducked his head. After a few moments of blissfully quiet walking, America said, “Sorry.”

“You should be. It's a good thing I'd caught up with the most urgent bits of work I had to do before this happened.”

“Well, at least we get to go on an adventure together!” America declared, never put down for long.

England looked away, watching his little creatures frolicking in the verge. “Yes... I suppose we are. Unless that Glitch drags anyone else we know into the game.”

“Haha, yeah...”

They fell silent again, continuing on their way. A river was up ahead and, thankfully, a bridge to cross it. They would soon be in Junda, England knew, looking forward to being able to contact Japan and leaving the game. Unfortunately, before they could reach the aforementioned bridge, England heard a roar and stopped, looking around. “What-?” he began, noticing that America was reaching for his gun.

“It must be a monster,” America said. “Where is it?” He looked around, obviously disquieted that he couldn't see the thing.

“If it was me who had made this game, I'd probably have put a troll under the bridge,” England said, raising his hand in preparation. Then he remembered that his character had to use a little book to use his magic and hurriedly searched in his satchel for it. Once he had found it, he pulled it out – just in time for the monster to make its appearance.

The thing did indeed come from under the bridge, swinging up and over to block their way. It looked like a flat-faced bear, huge and hulking and hairy. The hair was white which made the horns on its head stand out, the black an obvious contrast. Tusks stuck out from under its upper lip and it drooled some sort of green goo. Long, deadly-looking claws hung at its side. Above its head were the words, Bigfoot: **Level 50**.

“Bigfoot? Really?” England demanded, glaring at America. That was when he noticed his companion's fearful face. “What's wrong? It's not so powerful. Well, not compared to you.”

“Th-That's the problem...” croaked America. “When-When you entered the game, the Glitch did something to me, too. Look.” He pointed upwards and England did as he was asked, startled to find his name, xXHeroXx, and his level hovering above him.

His level being, according to the hovering declaration, **Level 33**.

“Eh...?”

“I've been brought down to your level!” America exclaimed. “I didn't think we'd come across something like this on the way to Junda – this thing shouldn't _be_ here. It's supposed to be out in the mountains!”

“Oh,” said England, at a loss of what else to say. “I see. Er.” He stopped talking, realising that nothing he said would help in the current situation. He also didn't want to ask the question and know the answer: if he had been better at the game, would they have been able to defeat Bigfoot easily?

“Don't worry, England!” America shouted, his confidence suddenly returning. “I'll totally protect you. I won't let you die!”

Sighing, England rolled his eyes. “ _Arthur_ ,” he insisted. “Remember where we are.”

“Yeah, yeah. No-one's around.”

With that being said, America reached behind himself and pulled off that gigantic gun. It looked even more ridiculous being easily held by the gunner. England rolled his eyes again and opened his book. There were actually words written in it but they weren't spells: they were a list of 'hits' and their damage. Presumably, they cycled through them as England cast his magic. He wasn't sure they would do much damage to the Bigfoot. Raising his hand, he uttered a word of his own magic, wondering if, maybe, it would work. None of his magic flowed through him but something made him freeze. Startled, he tried to move but nothing happened.

Beside him, he heard the snick of a trigger being pulled. Again, nothing happened. Then America grunted. “What the-? I can't move.”

“Neither can I...” said Arthur, slowly, turning his attention to the monster.

The thing roared, beat its chest and launched itself across the gap between them. It targeted America and swiped at his chest with its long claws. America gave a shout of pain and England watched in horror as gashes appeared across his chest, blood staining his shirt. Above his head, there flashed up the number -20. Then England realised that there was no blood on Bigfoot's claws. Before he could puzzle out what was going on, Bigfoot roared, turned its back on them and resumed its original position.

All of a sudden, England could move again, stumbling forwards towards the creature. An echo of the word he had uttered sounded around him at the same instant a magical circle appeared, encasing him at waist height. Like his own magic, the circle glowed green before a bolt of magic flew out and hit the monster square in the chest. Above Bigfoot was the number -50. Seeing as his HP was at 500 compared to both of their 200, it didn't make much of a difference.

England expected the monster to attack him now but it made no move, waiting for when, suddenly, America's gun went off, bullets littering the thing's chest and drawing blood. This time, the number was -45. England winced at the lower damage but quickly turned to America, worried that his wounds would take him out of the picture. However, as he turned to him, he found a puzzled America staring down at his chest.

“Are you all right?” England asked, wondering if he needed to do anything.

“I... think so,” America replied, frown deepening. “It doesn't hurt.” He looked up at England then at the monster before grimacing in a way England wasn't too ecstatic to see. “I think we're only able to move like in the game when we're in battle.”

“Huh?”

“Well, when we battle in a party, everyone takes turns. You 'reacted' first so you'll be the first one to do anything on our side. Even if I try shooting him before you use your magic, your attack will go through first. And neither of us can hit Bigfoot before he hits us since he's the one who started the battle.”

Looking between America and Bigfoot, England winced. “What should we do? There's an option to run so we could just leave and find some other way to-”

“No way!” America cried, striking his usual 'hero pose'. “There's no way I'll lose at my own game! We'll fight through and win. And I'll be the hero and you'll-”

“-be the sidekick; yes, I know,” England said with a sigh. There was no way he'd be able to drag America away – they would have to fight their way past. “Fine. Let's get this over with.”

So England said his spell and America pulled his trigger, aiming for the brute's head. At Bigfoot's turn, it galloped towards America once again. England could see his companion bracing himself for being slashed – only to be surprised as the monster reached out with both hands. The alarm was clear on America's face and England could only watch as Bigfoot grabbed America, lifted him high and brought him crashing down to the ground. America cried out at that, sounding as if he was in pain. England struggled to move, wanting to rush to his side. Instead, he could only watch as a -90 appeared above America.

Then his spell went flying and he gaped as it hit not only Bigfoot, but whacked America as well. For Bigfoot, he only managed a -9. America, however, took more damage as a -20 appeared above him. Bigfoot retreated and America struggled to his feet, looking winded, swaying as he pointed his gun. This time, the only damage was a -10.

As Bigfoot retreated to his spot, England allowed himself to run to America's side. “Am- Alfred!” he said as he reached him, gripping his arm to keep him upright. “I thought the attacks weren't harming you!”

“Apparently they do the more HP you lose,” America said through his panting. “Man, this blows.”

“Idiot. We have potions. We bought them at the bloody apothecary. Take one of them.”

“No way!” America said. “I can beat it without needing-”

“Fine!” England snapped, searching in his satchel again. “Take this and drink it or I swear I'll hit you myself.”

“You already did,” America replied with a grin. He took the potion, though, his smile softening as he did so.

“That was an accident!” England protested.

“Yeah, yeah. Probably you getting revenge for the Revolution, huh?”

Unimpressed, England made his displeasure known with a hard stare. America merely laughed and downed the potion. Above his head appeared the number +50. “Here,” England said, verging on a growl. Take this one, too.” This time, America took it without complaint, quickly gulping it down. Another +50 appeared above him.

“Right,” said America, hefting his gun again. “Let's take this guy down!”

Without responding, England opened his book again and said a word. Then, without thinking, he lowered his arm. He froze, blinking at the monster. Had he just moved? But... he wasn't supposed to, not until his attack hit. Confused, he turned to America who pulled the trigger. As soon as he'd done so, the monster charged once again, focussed on America.

“America!” England exclaimed, waving at him.

“Oh,” he said, blinking at England. “Giving me the potion used up an action...”

Understanding dawned on England as Bigfoot drew closer. He glanced between it and America and decided to take a chance. “Stop!” he shouted, rather instinctively, as he dove in front of America, arms spread wide. The monster barrelled into him, sending him flying: he flipped over the thing's shoulder and landed hard on the ground behind it. Then, without warning, the monster turned and headed back to its place, trampling England on its way.

A little dazed, England pushed himself to his feet, glad being in the game meant the battering hadn't hurt too much. Staggering a little, he took a breath – and America shouted from behind him. “England! Look out!”

“It's _Ar_ -” he murmured, just before he was hit by the full force of America's bullets. _Damn,_ he thought, _I haven't been shot in some time. I'm still not used to it._ Suddenly, his limbs felt like lead, the wounds from the bullets firing pain across his body. Light-headed and dizzy, he collapsed, trying to make sense of things. Above him, he managed to spot a red number: -99. How much HP did he have left, then? Probably not much if the encroaching darkness was any indication.

“Eng- Arthur!” he heard America cry and, out of nowhere, the other nation loomed over him. He appeared to be on his knees and he grabbed England, drawing him close. “Arthur, come on, stay with me. I've got some potions here. You need to take them – I don't know what'll happen if you die in here. You might not- Ah! Don't close your eyes!”

England couldn't help it; he could feel himself drifting off, America's voice growing more distant and echo-y. He let out a sigh and allowed himself to snuggle into America's arms. Just this once would be okay.


	3. Forming a Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… someone asked for a continuation I decided to do it since I’d left the last part on a cliffhanger.
> 
> I’m not writing any more parts for this particular story at the moment cause I have other stuff to do, though, so sorry.

For the second time, England woke to the sight of a 'perfect' sky. He blinked several times, merely staring upwards for a while, trying to work out what had happened. Obviously, he had been given a potion to regain his HP. Either that or America had been defeated as well and they had both had to 'sleep it off' as was what happened when one's HP was low enough. With a groan, he pushed himself upright and rubbed at his temple with the other hand.

“Ah, Arthur-san,” said a voice England recognised. He froze, trying to work out any reason why he would be hearing Japan's voice without him being in the game. However, he could think of nothing and whipped his head around to stare, wide-eyed at Japan who sat upon a log nearby. The Asian nation was wearing a kimono with a large hat at his back. In his hand was the staff England associated with Japanese priests; he wished he could remember the name for it.

Beside him was another surprise: Prussia, wearing pretty much what he had worn during his Teutonic Knights days. Of course the armour was different, shinier and probably lighter. He also wore a cloak – England wondered if he'd managed to get the Prussian flag programmed into it. On his lap sat a helmet, something England knew he'd never used in all his centuries stomping around Europe.

Closest to him, of course, was America who looked rather pained, as if he was struggling to keep his emotions in check. Then he noticed England staring back at him and broke into a grin. “Sleeping Beauty's awake! Well done, dude. You got totally wiped out.”

England shot a glare at him before pointedly turning to Japan. “What happened?” he asked.

Japan glanced at America before turning his full attention on England. “I was working on some new items for the game when the... 'Glitch' pulled me in. Since I thought America could help, I decided to make his way to where he usually signs in. Along the way, I found Prussia and we decided to team up. That's when we found out about the decrease in levels when we team up-”

“Ja!” Prussia burst out. “I was shocked! How dare they make me come down to your guys' level!”

Briefly, England considered ignoring those implications. Then he frowned and looked between Japan and Prussia. “Wait... Surely Kiku and Alfred should be a higher level than you?”

“Pfft, nah,” said America, leaning forward on his own log so that he impinged on Arthur's field of view. “Pru- Gil has nothing else to do so he just plays the game all day. He's, like, a level one hundred. Right?” He turned to Prussia whose cheeks had turned pink.

“I-I do too have things to do!” he protested. “I just choose to slack off 'cause I can! And-And that makes me awesome, kesese!”

Rolling his eyes, England turned back to Japan. “How did you end up here?”

“We were crossing the bridge when we saw the... Ē to... Bigfoot-san... Gilbert-san decided he wanted to level us both up so we approached and that was when we found America...” At that point, he trailed off, looking over at America before lowering his gaze to the ground.

“They found me heroically saving your ass!” America interrupted, striking a pose.

England sighed. “I wouldn't have needed saving if we had just _found another way across_ ,” he told America.

“Yeah, yeah. But, dude, you totally needta level up. You were really lame back there!”

“I did the most damage to it!” England snapped, scrambling to his feet so he glare down at his former colony.

“You hit me, too,” America pointed out, grinning up at him. “Nearly took me out, too.”

“Exactly. That spell was barely enough to harm Bigfoot and you almost died from it – now who's 'lame'?!”

“Dude, chill. I had everything under control.”

Just as England was about to retort, Prussia cleared his throat. When England looked over at their new companions, he noted that Japan looked as though he wished he was anywhere else whilst Prussia looked highly amused. Forcing himself to relax, England unclenched his fists and turned to Japan and Prussia. “I take it that you saved us, right?” When they both nodded, England inclined his head. “Thank you. It's much appreciated – even if _some people_ are rude enough to try to take all the credit.”

“I wasn't gonna,” America protested, pouting. “I mean, Japan and Prussia definitely helped.”

“Oh, shut up,” snapped England. With a sigh, he sat next to America on his log. “So, if both the creators of the game are in here, what are we going to do now?”

“We were just discussing that before you woke up,” Japan said. “The Glitch must have originated somewhere – we just have to find it and fix the problem.”

“Since Japan and America-” Prussia began.

“Ah, Kiku and Alfred,” America interjected, winking at England. Turning from him, England rolled his eyes and hoped the other two couldn't see his slight blush.

Blinking, Prussia looked between them before shrugging. “Okay... Since... _Kiku_ and _Alfred_ were in here first, we were just comparing times to see when each of them got sucked in.”

“I was sucked in at some point after midnight,” Japan said.

“I'd just got home from Canada's place so I had the day off. I think I got online at, like, twelve?” America added.

“Midday or midnight?” England asked.

“Midday, duh.”

“So Japan must have been sucked in first. Now what?”

“We both have little areas where we tested what we wanted to put in the game during the beta phase,” Japan explained. “We put what worked in the main game's coding but kept those areas attached to the game so we could test things before interrupting the game's coding. They work on a slightly different coding but characters and monsters from the main game can interact with the area as well. If the Glitch came from somewhere 'close' to me, then that would be where we'll most likely find it.”

“Then we'd better get going, huh?” said America. Yours is over the Mountain, right?”

“Indeed.”

“Do we have everything we need?” Prussia asked, reaching for the pouch at his belt. The other two began to look through their bags, forming an inventory of their things. England, meanwhile, looked around, taking in their surroundings for the first time. Despite there being no noise, the river was fairly close: he could see the bridge where Bigfoot had leapt out at them.

Thinking of the battle from before, England looked up and noted everyone's levels. They all said, **Level 33**. He looked around at the others, knowing their levels were significantly higher. If he remembered correctly, America's was definitely in the 80's. If he had faced Bigfoot alone, would he have finished the fight with one blow? Would the same be said for Japan and Prussia? How long would it take to get to the Mountain, much less get over the top, and how many enemies would they encounter?

“What've you got, Eng- _Arthur_?” asked America, wrenching England from his thoughts. He spotted Japan and Prussia both looking at him expectantly.

Shaking his head, England stood. “You should go without me.”

“Eh?!” America cried, leaping to his feet as well. “What're ya talking about? We can't leave ya behind, dude. How're ya gonna get outta here if you stay here?”

“I bring down everyone's levels,” England pointed out. “If I stay with you, we may be held up with more of those high-level monsters. I'll be fine on my own-”

“No! You won't!” America was suddenly shouting, his hands balled into fists. “What if you-?” He broke off and took several deep breaths.

“I think,” said Japan, softly, “what Alfred-san is trying to say is that we would be worrying about you if we left you behind.”

This time, England blushed deeply. He could feel how hot his cheeks were and had to resist reaching up to rub at them. “I... I would be fine. I'm a former empire – I can-”

“You can't!” shouted America, stepping towards him, his anger clear on his face.

“What's wrong with you?!” England snapped, angry now that America was being irrational. “It's logical to leave me behind! I don't- This is for the best!”

“Oh!” said Japan, loudly. Both England and America turned their gazes on him and England noticed Japan flinch under their combined anger. He grimaced, wanting to apologise but knowing he was too wound up to say anything nice at the moment. “It looks as though we are not the only ones trapped here.”

Both England and America spun to look in the direction Japan and Prussia were facing. Sure enough, another player was making their way towards them. From a distance, he appeared to be wearing a purple coat and was definitely blond, his long locks tied back. England knew instantly who it was. “Fuck,” he muttered, realising his day had, almost impossibly, gotten worse.

“Bonjour, mes amis!” cried the figure, raising a hand in greeting. France strode nonchalantly up to them, as if he hadn't just been sucked into a game. “I see we are all in the same boat, mm?”

“What are _you_ doing here?” England demanded. “You never play this – why were _you_ on when this happened? Ah, did all your dates cancel on you? They must have realised how much of a bearded bastard you are.” England nodded smugly, satisfied his displeasure had been made known.

“If you _must_ know,” France said, apparently unfazed by the jabs to his romantic life, “Prussia invited me to play with him and Spain.”

“Oh, God,” sighed England, raising his eyes to the heavens. “Please tell me that idiot isn't wandering around here, too? And human names!” he added, glaring at France. “Is that too much for you to work out?”

“Ah, did I interrupt a, mm, argument avec avoir le feu au cul?” France smirked at England, glancing at America briefly before returning his attention to England, smirk widening. England immediately turned to hide a blush. He almost turned back when he spotted America trying to parse the meaning of the idiom. England had no doubt that America knew enough French to know the literal translation – he was hoping that Canada hadn't taught America the idioms England had slowly grown to know. Which, in his defence, he had learnt so as not to let his enemy make fun of him in his own language. And, since he knew what France was getting at, he was going to have to make a rebuttal to quell any more discussion.

“Just because I mentioned what you'd rather be doing, doesn't mean you need to project, _Frog_.”

“Ah, _Sourcils_ , I doubt that that is what I was doing.”

“What're you two talking about?” asked America, looking quite fed up. “If you're going to fight, can ya wait till we're back in our own homes and don't needta listen to ya?”

“Wha-? You're one to talk!” England exclaimed, spinning to face him.

Prussia suddenly cleared his throat and everyone turned to him. “As much as I love watching you three duke it out, I think we ought to listen to Japan...”

“Eh?!” Japan cried, nervously twisting his hands together in his lap. “I-I did not mean... Ē to.” He looked up to find everyone waiting and took a deep breath. “I am sorry to interrupt but... I think we should resolve this quickly before anyone else is sucked in.”

“Like Spain,” England muttered.

“Or innocent humans!” America declared, striking a heroic pose for the umpteenth time that day.

Side-eyeing America, England returned his attention to Japan who took the brief silence to plough on. “I think we should leave now. If we delay any longer, the Glitch could change things about the game and make it even harder for us to reach it.”

“England – ah, sorry, Artie – and Frenchy can stay here,” America said, nodding decisively. (“'Frenchy'?” muttered France, sullenly.) “Neither of them are as good as us,” America continued, “and we'll get over the Mountain quick enough. Then we can come back and save the day! Well, I will...”

“No way!” Prussia piped up. “I don't want to leave Francis behind! He's got to come with us. Leave Eyebrows here if he's being stubborn about it.”

Looking around at the others, England forced himself to focus and reminded himself why he was staying behind with a quick glance at their levels. He paused when he saw a change and then, with a triumphant “Ha!”, he pointed upwards. “There's no point in me staying behind if the Frog is going,” he told them.

Everyone raised their gaze and spotted what England had; their levels now said **Level 21**.

“Sheesh, Franny, what do you _do_ in this game?” America demanded, shaking his head in evident disgust.

“He doesn't come on it often enough,” England reminded him.

“Because I have more important things to be doing than playing a game,” France said, raising his hands in surrender as even Prussia glared at him.

“Dammit, Francis,” the knight said, “how're we going to get over the Mountain if our levels are this low?”

“We are going over a mountain?” France asked, clearly confused.

“Not _a_ mountain,” America corrected him. “ _The_ Mountain.”

Before anyone else could make a comment, Japan quickly jumped in with a brief apology and an explanation for France. Once he was up to speed, Japan looked at them all. “If I may... I think we should stick together. Bigfoot-san was supposed to be in the mountains and was programmed to wander that area. He should not be here. There is no telling what will happen if we leave anyone behind. An opponent with a much higher level could turn up and wipe out whoever stays here. The larger the group, the more chance we will survive in this situation.”

“That makes sense!” America immediately agreed. England felt a flash of anger mixed with jealousy – why was he so quick to accept Japan's ideas and argue with England's?

“I would not wish to be stuck on my own with Sourcils,” France added, fuelling England's ire.

He took a breath to calm himself as Prussia nodded along. When everyone looked over at him, he shook his head. “I don't really fancy being stuck with the Frog, idiot over here” - he pointed at America who shouted “Hey!” - “and Sir Moron over there” - he jerked his thumb at Prussia who also shouted “Hey!” - “but I suppose this is the only way I'm going to get out of here, isn't it?”

“Yay! We've formed a party!” America declared. He stuck his hand out in front of him. “We're gonna rock this mission and get home before anyone else gets sucked in here!” Nothing else happened for a moment and America looked around at them all, brilliant smile still on his face. “C'mon, guys! Put your hands in!”

Everyone looked at each other, both exasperated and amused. England stubbornly folded his arms. Prussia was the first to jump to his feet and move forward; he placed his hand over America's with a slap. “Ja!” he shouted.

“H-Hai...” said Japan, getting up and hesitantly placing his hand gently over Prussia's.

France chuckled and stepped forward as well. “Oui,” he said as he brushed his hand over Japan's, making the Asian nation shiver.

Then everyone turned to England, looking at him expectantly. He looked at each of them: America grinning; Prussia smirking; Japan blushing; France sneering. Did he really want to go with them? Would he be any use? His magic didn't work right in this world and he didn't have much else in his arsenal. In fact, he was fairly sure, if he tried his hand at anything else, this world would stop him from using it to the best of his ability.

Glancing up again, he looked at their levels. Would they be able to survive the journey in this state? He thought about the potions in his satchel and how he had forced them on America. The only reason America had survived the battle had been England's aid. Perhaps it was best for him to go with them.

That didn't mean he was going to do this silly thing America was trying to get them to do.

“No,” he said. “I'll come with you but I'm not-”

“Artie, if you don't,” whined America, “you can't be part of the Super Awesome Kakkōī Party.”

“The _what_? I'm not-”

“Oh, stop being a horrible grump,” France said, rolling his eyes. “Get your hand on mine.”

“I don't want to touch y-”

“Just drag him in,” Prussia said to America, shaking his head in dismay.

“Don't you-”

“ _Artie_ ,” America whined, using his puppy-dog eyes.

Resolve crumbling, England sighed and ducked his head, trying to hide a forming blush. “Tsk,” he said, to cover himself. Then he stepped forward as France tried to smother his laughter and brought his hand down – hard – on France's. The quietly sniggering nation hissed in pain and flexed his hand under England's tightening grip. He deserved his due punishment, as far as England was concerned.

“All right!” America shouted, ignoring the sudden scuffling between England and France. “Let's go, team!” With that, he used his unfair strength to lift everyone else's hands and fling them into the air; England released France's hand as soon as they were free. Once America's ridiculous ritual was out of the way, everyone turned in the direction of the mountain. England found himself bringing up the rear and glanced over at the bridge, wondering if they would have to face any more high-level monsters.

He could have sworn he saw something move before America called on him and he glanced away to catch up; when he looked over his shoulder whatever it was – if anything had been there – it had gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, yeah. I almost forgot....
> 
> The idiom France uses is something I found on my travels while trying to work out what he would say when he interrupted an "argument with a lot of sexual tension" - as it is, what he actually says is "argument with intense sexual desire". The literal translation doesn't make that so clear, though...


End file.
